


I'm a What Now?

by LadyoftheSea



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman (Movies - Nolan), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: A lot of self-roasting happening here, Attempt at Humor, Crack, Explicit Language, Gen, It's all in good fun, Thirst Tweets, apologies in advance to furries everywhere, we all know we're not gonna stop loving J anytime soon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:14:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22344673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyoftheSea/pseuds/LadyoftheSea
Summary: The Joker just wanted his plan to go off without a hitch - avenge a few insults and give a couple of free lessons. He puts a lot of effort into these things, you know. But what happens when Mr. J discovers an entire army of thirsty fangirls waiting in the wings?
Comments: 17
Kudos: 35





	I'm a What Now?

**Author's Note:**

> This is meant to be entirely crack humour and nothing is serious in this one-shot, just a gentle roasting of how much we love this feral trash panda and a goofy imagining of what would happen if he knew just how deep it went for a lot of us 😂. I hope you enjoy and get a good laugh out of it! 
> 
> To all the clown fuckers out there, this one's for you! 😉

It definitely wasn’t the night before Christmas, but wherever a Gothamite turned, a purple-clad troll they could see. He was on the TV, manically grinning and filled with glee. It started simple, nothing out of the ordinary in the Joker’s usual... recipe.

But things went differently this time, a little off the rails, in a way he did not expect. 

The Joker had a favourite show, some might call it ‘trash’ but so was he, and he liked laughing at the misery of others. _GMZ—_ Gotham Media Zone: the city's resident roast extravaganza hosted by Ert and Bernie, living caricatures of those puppets Joker adored. Political scandals, bad hair-dos, atrocious spray-tans, he watched their live-streamed radio show religiously, a bowl of popcorn in hand and his dusty shoes propped up. Well, as religiously as he did anything. 

_Gotta know how to treat yourself, kids._

But his favourite part of all? Celebrities getting absolutely _roasted_ over their drab choice of attire and poor life choices. GMZ was an old favourite of his. They were _ruthless._ No figure of importance was safe from their keen gaze. Just then, as he had sat watching on the soiled and threadbare couch in an abandoned house in Crime Alley, Ert and Bernie had been digging into an atrocious suit choice made by Bruce Wayne, and they had been right on the money. They had been mimicking him, adopting Bruce’s smarmy grin and his swanky walk, and digging in where it _hurt._

 _“Knock knock, Bruce,”_ Bernie had said, barely keeping a straight face. 

_“Who’s there?”_ Ert had been less successful, cracking up and chortling. 

_“Not your parents!”_

The pair had burst into a fit of cackles, doubling over as tears came to their eyes and a photoshopped image of the billionaire in question had appeared on screen with animated tears springing from his 2D eyes with vigour.

_Nothing like a good laugh at your own jokes._

See, _that_ was what he had loved about them. Their _honesty._ Their willingness to stick it to the idiots of Gotham and get a good laugh. And the best part had been how all of it was in such poor taste—the bastards had no sense of propriety. 

Whooping with laughter, slapping his knee and throwing his popcorn all over the blood-soaked carpet, the Joker had almost missed their next joke. 

_“Oh, but he’s got_ nothing _on our resident emo!”_ Bernie had said, still wheezing as he recovered from his burst of gut-pinching giggles. A picture of Batman had popped up on the screen next. It had been blurry, no better than one of those sasquatch sighting videos, and Bernie had started a new round of laughter. _“Did someone forget to tell Batman that the furry convention ended last month?”_

_"I don't think anybody did. Gotta admit, that's dedication."_

_"He's really taken that fursona to new heights. Do you think the Joker gets him all worked up in a 'knot'?"_

It had taken one of his hench-idiots hiding his mouth behind a hand to stop himself from laughing for the Joker to finally get the punchline on that one. 

“Hey, hey, _hey!”_ he had chided, shooting his men a glare that could peel paint, “Bats is no- _t_ a furry." 

But Ert and Bernie hadn’t heard the Joker’s protests, and they weren’t finished. 

_“Do you think he makes Batman_ furry _-ous?”_

Joker had sat up ramrod straight, popcorn fully spilling all over the floor, as he took out the Glock in his pocket and shot Ert and Bernie's digital selves in the head. His men had shouted and jumped over their seats for cover, but Joker didn't care about them. He had been caught up in the _indignity_ of it all. 

Bats was his best friend, of _course_ he'd know if he got up to something so—so _sordid_ in his free time!

He didn't like their insinuations, their purposeful tarnishing of their collective reputations. They didn’t know _anything._ He and Bats were _better_ than those cretins. They were above the rabble and common morons, and Ert and Bernie had managed to erase all the Joker's goodwill by taking just that _one_ step too far. Jokes— _haha—_ were fine. So long as they weren't about him. They might not have been the comedians he thought they'd been, but they sure as hell had been good at fuelling that deep-seated rage that always brimmed in the Joker’s chest.

"He's just a bit _batty."_

Now _there had been_ a good joke. Why hadn't they hired him? He'd have had way better material than those dolts any day— 

_Wait a second…_

That had given the Joker an idea, always a dangerous thing. 

_Says you._

Ert and Bernie had disappointed the Joker, but there were still ways to rectify this. He could show them the punchline. 

_‘Cause where are we without that, hmm?_

That’s how the Joker found himself in the GMZ studio, cameras broadcasting live, microphones on, and giving the people of Gotham the show they _deserved._

“You give comedy a, uh, _bad name,”_ the Joker said, wagging a finger at the disgraced radio hosts. They were dangling from their ankles, suspended from the ceiling after the Joker went on a ten-minute tirade about the _proper_ use and mention of _knots._ “Looks like _I’m_ gonna have to teach you how to do it _right.”_

Just as he was reaching for the considerable knife collection he had brought in tow, eager and excited to teach his friends something new, a hench-idiot cried, “Hey, Boss—we’re trending!”

The Joker swiped his tongue in question. “We’re, ah, _what?”_

He was about to reprimand the idiot—they were in the _middle_ of something here, when the idiot clarified with haste, “Trending—it means everyone’s talking about us on Twitter.”

Halting in place, the Joker looked up, face awash with delight. _This_ oughta be good—Gotham was tuning in, and he was always one for attention. 

_“Oh!_ Doesn’t that sound _exciting?”_ he hummed, spinning and making his coat twirl around him with the grace of a drunk ballerina. “Let’s see what _all_ those folks at home are chiming in with, hmm?” 

But the hench-idiots suddenly went pale; one even slapped a hand over his mouth. 

“Uh—Boss, I don’t—don’t think—”

“Don’t thin- _k what?”_ he barked, incensed at the interruption and ready to _really_ give his audience a show. 

Most of what he had in mind involved a lot of blood, maybe some bone fragments if he was lucky enough, and some choice camera angles, maybe even a _whomp-whomp_ if the idiots in the editing room were quick enough. 

“C’mon—gimme a couple lines here, we’ve got ‘em _hanging—”_

He was laughing at his own joke when one hench-idiot, Marcus, blanched. Nothing in his short life had prepared him for this. 

“Boss, I don’t think—” 

_“Read. Them,”_ he growled. 

Well, the hench-idiot _tried_ to warn him. 

“‘Whatever—whatever doesn’t kill you makes you… _hornier._ Stab me, daddy’.” 

Marcus very much wanted to die right then—be struck from the earth and be reborn as a cat or something—any other life path that didn’t involve reading what kept popping up on his cell phone with horrifying speed. 

If there was a cosmic record player projecting a bop out into the universe, it would’ve come to a scratching halt at that moment. 

“Wait, wait, wait— _what?”_ The Joker froze, his brain short-circuiting as he looked from Marcus to the camera like both had betrayed him. 

“‘You ever think about how bad you want Joker’s knife pressed against your throat? Yeah, me too’.”

“No. _No, no, no, no-- “_

This couldn’t be right—he was supposed to be terrifying _. Terrifying!_ Who in their right goddamn _minds_ would say _that_ about _him?!_

Snatching Marcus’ phone, the Joker started flipping through the Twitter feed. There had to be something wrong happening, some kind of mistake. You don’t look at your TV with a psycho clown holding people at knifepoint and think _that_. 

_...Right?_

The Joker could not believe his damn eyes. 

**@ladyzeev: If death doesn’t come from being choked by Mr. J then I don’t want it**

“They… they wanna do _that_ with me?” he asked in a stage whisper, looking genuinely shocked. His men could only reply with cringes and nods. “With _me?”_

**@princessheathus: I want to be fucked against the wall by a psycho clown**

**that’s it**

**that’s the tweet**

“Well, that’s, uh… _creative.”_

The Joker knew he made a mistake when he kept scrolling. 

**@harleygal** : **Roses are red, violets are blue,** **  
** **My love for Mr. Joker is chaotic but true.** **  
** **He can bruise and break me,** ****  
**and violently degrade me,** **  
** **but only while he sexually violates me**

Marcus and the others just kept nodding, and the Joker was glad for the white makeup to hide the blush that burned from his forehead down to his toes. He’d never been speechless before, but his immense shock caused the phone to slip right out of his hand.

Panic was a new feeling for him, but the Joker took it in stride, forgetting all about the rolling cameras and packing up his sheet of knives. He was ready to _go._

“Maybe we should call Batsy on them?” he said to himself, trying to think. These people were _clearly_ unbalanced. What were they watching to put these thoughts into their heads? Another hench-idiot, Simon, got up and began to whisper in the Joker’s ear, sweating so badly that it collected along the edge of his scruffy beard. “What do you mean they’d like that too much?”

From its perch on the floor, the Joker’s eyes did see another roll of thirst tweets assaulting the phone with chirps of mirth and dismay. 

**@jennyjazz: I just want that trash panda to hold me**

The Joker couldn’t remember being worried about the _actual_ sanity of others… _ever._ He also couldn’t remember fearing for his life quite like he did right then. 

**@sunnydayz: PLS KILL ME MR JOKER MAN. I VOLUNTEER. SNAP MY NECK**

“Are there enough cells in Arkham for all these _crazies?”_ he asked his men, struck with genuine disbelief as he gesticulated wildly at the offending phone. This had to be a dream. A _really_ weird dream, even by his standards. 

A resounding _boom_ in the recording studio caught everyone by surprise—Ert and Bernie reacted with muffled screams for help and the Joker, for once in his goddamn life, didn’t know how to respond. 

“Give up quietly, Joker—”

Batman only had to stand there in all his stern, brooding glory for four seconds, just as many words out of his mouth, when the Joker sprang right up and shoved his wrists in Batman’s face. 

“Oh, yep, _yep!_ You sure stopped me _good_ , Bats. C’mon now, take me away. _C’mon, c’mon, c’mon.”_

Batman had his fists raised, ready to beat everyone in the room into submission but brute strength would not help him here. No amount of physical prowess could mitigate his confusion. Two men were hanging from the ceiling by a series of elaborate knots, a group of thugs were sweating bullets and giggling nervously, and the Joker had never looked happier to see him. He was about to open his mouth, say something to get things back on track to that simple repartee of dragging the bad guys away, but their willingness made him slow. 

_“Sir!_ They’re here—” one man cried, staring at his phone with genuine fear in his eyes. 

“You heard the man, Bats—Hurry up!” 

The Joker hooked one arm around Batman’s and started dragging him back from whence he came, searching frantically for the Tumbler. Too shocked to respond, his protests ignored, Batman heard the sounds of a large crowd gathering outside the studio. They were shouting something, the police barely restraining the roving mass of young fangirls. Batman listened closely, attempting to glean what he could, and the voraciousness of the crowd increased tenfold at the sight of Batman in the Joker’s arms. 

“Batman, Batman!” they cried, their t-shirts sporting a new term he hadn’t seen before— _Batjokes._ And, just like the Joker, he did not understand its meaning. “Does daddy bats use lube or does he just—”

Nope. Now Batman understood. He got the message, loud and clear. 

The Joker didn’t have to drag Batman anymore, the pair flew like the wind, absconding over yonder, away from the grasp of an army of thirsty fans. 

“And they say _I’m_ insane,” the Joker scoffed, shaking his head as they sped away. 

Batman wasn’t one to grin, but he chuckled nervously. “Where do they even get this from?” he mused to himself. 

Both Joker and Bat burst into laughter at the preposterousness of it all, the _ridiculousness._ Surely there was no merit to any of it— 

And then their eyes met, both men going scarlet and then silent. 

“Maybe they, ah, have an extra room for you?” the Joker said, half-serious. "Or... maybe we can share one?" 

Batman considered ejecting him from the Tumbler, but, at that moment, it didn’t sound like such a bad idea.

**Author's Note:**

> This wouldn't have been possible without some wonderful people on the clown fuckers discord - thank you xSunnyx, TheHarlequinofHate, J1994, princessledger, zoeev, misfitgirlwrites, and jasmineau for all their help, input, and support! 💖 And a _huge_ thank you to [Khaosprinz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khaosprinz/pseuds/Khaosprinz) as always!


End file.
